


Some Kind of Frankenstein

by doccione



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtuber RPF, Youtubers
Genre: M/M, Tronnor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doccione/pseuds/doccione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.”<br/>― Oscar Wilde</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All fiction! x posted

The California skies were uncharacteristically grey. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, and the soft rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. It was the kind of day that meandered along slowly, unencumbered by responsibilities or the outside world. It was a day that could be used to do anything; learn piano, write poetry, or clean the attic, but it was also a day to do nothing.

  
The soft patter of rain soothed Connor in the early morning darkness. The overcast skies felt strangely familiar to him, like a remnant of Minnesota, come to visit him in his new home. Usually, he immediately checked his phone and opened his laptop upon waking, but he felt that the coziness of the morning would be soured by social media. Instead, he counted the seconds between thunderclaps and tried to remember the last time he’d seen rain.

  
After about ten minutes, Connor pulled himself out of his warm bed and padded down the hallway into his kitchen. He made a cup of coffee and curled up in a chair near a window. There was no one out on the streets. He supposed the people of LA disliked the rain, or that they were at least unaccustomed to it. He watched as a spider attempted to spin a web on the outside of the windowsill. It was somewhat shielded by the roof of the apartment complex, but droplets would inevitably find their way into it’s home, weighing down and snapping the intricate web. Tirelessly, the spider would rebuild until the next rain drop came. Connor watched the spider, normally something that repulsed him, in quiet awe.

  
As the clock ticked 11:30, he decided it was time to get ready. He took off his t-shirt and checked his phone, six new messages, one from his mom, one from his sister, a couple from Tyler, and one from Troye. He shot some quick replies to his family and smiled at Troye’s good night text he had missed the night before. Tyler wanted to meet up later in the day. Connor thought for a moment, mentally checking his calendar, and responded with “6?” before pulling on a pair of tight jeans and hastily slipping on a black sweatshirt.

  
He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he knew he wanted to take advantage of the weather and film a video. It wasn’t going to be one of his typical comedy videos, and he didn’t really have anything to vlog about, but he couldn’t waste the day. He captured the cold faces of people hurrying across a crosswalk, a dog drinking out of a puddle, the way the grass turned to mush, and it was beautiful. He asked a few strangers to film him as he walked across a street or climbed a flight of stairs. He knew he was putting an immense amount of trust in them, but that somehow made the video better. He liked filming their faces, all different, but all stunning in their own unique way.

  
He started thinking about his own life as he waded through a large muddy plain to overlook a vista of forest. He placed the camera on a fallen tree and walked out to the clearing, spreading his arms and taking in the rain. Thunder crashed all around him. He started spinning like a little kid, waiting for his breath to run away from him. His vision grew blurry as he spun, trees running together. He imagined a pair of blue eyes before he grew too dizzy and fell to the wet ground. He was suddenly aware that lightning could strike him at any second. In some ways, it already had. Running back to his camera, his perfectly styled quiff plastered to his forehead and his clothing caked in mud, he had never smiled brighter.  
In his adventures, he had lost track of time. Tyler was at his door waiting for him when he got home. When the shorter man spotted him, he recoiled.

  
“Oh my god, babe, what happened to you?” He asked. Connor moved to hug him, but Tyler pushed back, not wanting to get mud and grass all over him.

  
“Life Tyler!” He shouted, smiling. Tyler rolled his eyes. Connor was his weird hipster friend.

  
Connor threw his wet clothes into the hamper and pulled on a dry outfit. He ran the blow dryer over his hair for a few minutes and rejoined Tyler in his living room. The older boy busied himself on his phone.

  
“You forgot to style your hair,” he pointed out helpfully.

  
“I think I’m gonna just leave it down tonight,” Connor shrugged. Tyler looked frightened.

  
“Boy, what has gotten into you tonight,” he asked laughing.

 

They met up with Korey and got dinner and drinks. Even though Korey was Tyler’s friend from college, he and Connor got along really well, and it made Connor sad that he hadn’t continued at school, but the credits were still there, he could always go back. The best friend duo poked fun at him for being the only straight guy in the group, their usual joke when the three of them hung out. Connor just rolled his eyes. He was used to it. They did a little late night shopping, and Connor picked up a few art books about photography and architecture at a bookstore they passed. Tyler preferred narrative works, but while The Fault in our Stars was Connor’s favorite book, he really enjoyed informative books as well. He wanted to look into photography more, possibly improve the quality of his videos.

  
The trio ended up at Tyler’s place, as they always did, drinking sloppily made drinks, shots of tequila , and a vodka redbull with a questionable ratio. They danced and screamed along with pop music Connor didn’t know the lyrics to and passed out on Tyler’s couch while watching Mean Girls. Korey somehow managed to right himself enough in the wee hours of the morning to call a cab for a ride home, but Connor just wanted to curl up and fall asleep.

  
“Looks like it’s just us Con da bon,” Tyler said affectionately, enough of the alcohol having left his system in the hours they had slept to keep him between a buzz and a hangover. Tyler’s fingers played with his hair absentmindedly. On screen, Janis was making Regina’s face smell like a foot. “Do you wanna just crash here?” He asked quietly. Connor nodded, too scared of a headache to respond verbally. Tyler got up briefly to change into looser clothing and bring Con a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt. He didn’t really want to move from the little nest he had made on his friend’s couch, but the softness of fleece was too tempting, so he eventually gave in and disappeared into Tyler’s bathroom to change.

  
Tyler was expecting Connor to come out of the bathroom just as sleepy as he went in, but the Connor that greeted him, clad in his new pajamas, looked alert and sober. He shuffled over slowly, wringing his hands as he stepped. Tyler rubbed his back once he sat back down, trying to comfort him.

  
“What’s wrong Con?” He asked, concern dripping from his voice. Had his friend gotten bad news or something? Connor was visibly upset. His breathing picked up, and he shot up from the couch and started to pace around the room. “Hey now, you’re gonna wear holes in my nice carpet! Sit down and use your words,” he suggested in a lighthearted tone, not wanting to let his friend know he was scaring him. Connor sat down abruptly and looked him in the eye.

  
“I have something to tell you Ty,” he paused, “I’m really scared to say it,” he admitted. Tyler squeezed his shoulder in encouragement, sending warm vibes to his friend. “I’ve never told anyone this,” he paused again. Ty could see he was growing more anxious by the second. “...so...I’ve always felt different...and I never thou...I used to try and...Tyler I like...,” he trailed off in a whisper. The words didn’t need be spoken, his tone and demeanour finished the sentence for him. A moment of silence passed between the two with only the ambient sounds of the night acting as white noise. Tyler just pulled Con in for a hug, slowly rubbing his back and ignoring the quick breaths Connor was letting out. After a few minutes, Connor pulled back to face him. Tyler reached out and wiped the moisture from under his eyes.

  
“I love you Con, and I will always love you. Nothing has changed,” Tyler reassured. Connor couldn’t help but smile. “And if I may add, welcome to the squad!” He joked, in true Oakley fashion.

  
They fell back asleep shortly after, and nothing seemed to have changed in the morning, just as Tyler had promised. To Connor’s delight and Tyler’s dismay, it was still drizzling outside that day. Connor took his time walking back to his house. Sure it was a few miles away, but he had never felt so alive.

  
-x-

  
There was something calming about editing videos. It was routine, familiar, and cathartic. It was something so ingrained at him at this point he barely gave anything a second thought. Connor nursed a second cup of coffee on that second grey morning and sifted the footage from the day before. He could pinpoint the exact moment, when he was spinning in the field, when he felt like a bolt of lightning hit him, when everything became clear, when he decided he would tell Tyler.

  
He knew he wanted to put music over part of the video, but it was his film, not a free music video he made for a band. He contemplated what he should do, leaning back and sipping his coffee once more. He pulled up an ongoing document he kept on his computer, a compilation of all the little phrases and bits of poetry he’d written over the last few months. He didn’t normally consider himself a writer by any means, but sometimes when the world caught his eye, he was inspired. That would be a pretty cool thing to put in the video, he thought. His phone buzzed beside him, and Troye’s name lit up the screen.

  
Troye: Wanna Skype?  
Connor: Sure I’ll call you now  
He could take a break from editing. This video wasn’t going up this monday anyway. Besides, maybe talking to Troye would help generate some creativity.

  
“Connie Frannie!” Troye cheered from the other side of the world, wrapped in a blanket in his computer chair.

  
“Hey Troye da boy!” Connor greeted his friend. “Isn’t it really late in Australia?” Connor asked him as their normal skype sessions were much later in the day.

  
“Tyler’s been blowing up my phone all day. He’s really hyper for some reason, and it’s been keeping me up, and he couldn’t skype, so I’ve settled on you,” he shrugged.

  
“What, so I’m the second choice?” Connor asked. Troye just smirked. “So, did Tyler give you any reason as to why he’s so excited?” Connor asked, trying to appear innocent but barely hiding the blood rushing to his cheeks. If Troye noticed, he didn’t say anything.

  
“Nah, I think it’s just Tilly being Tilly, you know. Anyway, how are you Con? Are you doing okay?” He asked sincerely. Connor nodded, Troye had been there for him through some of his darkest times in the past year. He had seen him at his worst and somehow still wanted to be friends.

  
“Yeah, It’s good that you called actually. I’m working on a sorta different kind of video...like a creative video. Think like if my instagrams were in video form,” he tried to explain.

  
“Ah so existential and poignant?” Troye quipped. Connor waved him off.

  
“Exactly, and I’m thinking of putting some of my poetry in it?” He said, his face heating up. Sure, he tweeted poetry sometimes, but it was still kind of an embarrassing thing to admit, and he didn’t like letting people know he had a whole file of it on his computer.

  
“Really?” Troye asked, the excitement spilling over into his voice. “That’s amazing Con! The video is gonna be so good,” he smiled. Connor hid his face in his hands.

  
The pair skyped for a few hours, late into the night for Troye, but that’s what they normally did. They began the call actually talking, but eventually it just degenerated into Connor cooking food for himself and Troye scrolling on tumblr. It kind of felt like they were there together not on opposite sides of the globe. At one point, Troye fell asleep with skype open, so Connor typed a quick goodnight message and signed out, settling down to finish his video. After his chat with Troye, he changed his mind, he would post this one on monday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad you guys are liking the story so far! Here's the second chapter. The third will probably not come as quickly as I haven't completely written it yet. x posted Song is Bless the Telephone by Labi Siffre

  
“Why is it everytime I come to visit, you arrive at your door looking disgusting?” Tyler asked as he waited to be let in to Connor’s apartment. The younger boy had just finished a four mile run and was, understandably, sweaty and gross.

  
“It’s good for your health to exercise, Ty,” he unlocked the door.

  
“Whatever,” Tyler rolled his eyes. Connor knew he was the odd one out on the internet when it came to exercise. The running joke with the internet crew was that none of them liked to exercise, but Connor had always been an athlete in school, and an accomplished one at that. He couldn’t just turn off the part of him that liked the euphoria he got from a good hard run.

  
“I’m gonna take a quick five minute shower, will you be okay out here?” He asked his friend.

  
“Of course, I’ll just mess around on my laptop,” Tyler answered. Connor nodded and stepped into his bathroom, grimacing at the sight of his red sweaty face in the mirror. He dreaded the day a subscriber met him on a run, he did not need that picture on the internet. He sat down on the lip of the bathtub while the water ran, taking off his shoes and shorts and trying to remember what he had to do that day. Once he stepped into the hot water, his muscles relaxed and nothing else seemed to matter. He glanced down at his torso and silently hoped the extra workouts he had been doing lately would help him get his six pack back. He used to have one back when he swam regularly, but he wanted it back, even though he supposed it was vain. A few minutes later, he wrapped a towel around his waist and padded into the kitchen for a glass of water.

  
“Woah, you’re just going to waltz around naked?” Tyler cackled. Connor quirked an eyebrow.

  
“I’m wearing a towel,”

  
“I dunno, some might say you’re trying to seduce me,” Tyler giggled. Despite himself, Connor could feel his face getting red.

  
“Shut up Tyler,” he said, wow, what a great comeback. He’d probably come up with one six hours from now.

  
“So, if you don’t want to seduce me who do you want to seduce?” Connor sent him a quizzical look. Tyler rephrased: “What guys do you wanna fuck?” Connor nearly spit out his water.

  
“I am not having this conversation right now Ty,” he shrieked. It had been about a week since he told Tyler, but he definitely didn’t feel comfortable declaring his lust for anyone yet.

  
“C’mon, no one?” He cooed. Connor’s face was burning.

  
“Not with a towel on!” He immediately left for his room. He slipped on a pair of jeans and a maroon t-shirt, nothing special. After making sure all hint of red had left his face, he rejoined Tyler in the kitchen.

  
The shorter man seemed to have moved on from badgering Connor and instead was updating his Tumblr. They hung out for a little bit in his apartment, and then the pair went out for lunch with Korey. It was the most time Connor had spent with other people since he moved out of the O2L house. He didn’t really consider himself an introvert, but he definitely didn’t mind spending a lot of time alone. He liked living alone, he just didn’t like being lonely. They hung out for the majority of the day, just lowkey stuff, when Tyler had one of his bright ideas.

  
“Let’s go out to a club!” He cheered. Korey was immediately on board.

  
“Which one?” He asked.

  
“I was thinking Open,” Tyler answered. Korey approved. Connor felt his face drain.

  
“Wait, isn’t that a gay club?” He asked, hearing his voice raise an octave.

  
“Yep!” Tyler just said. Korey eyed him suspiciously for a minute but ultimately just shrugged. Connor could feel his heart pounding in his chest. This was a big step. He could easily tell Tyler that it was too much too soon. Ty would understand. Sure, he himself had always been secure in his sexuality, but he knew a lot of people had a tougher time. But part of Connor, the brave part deep down inside, wanted to go. The odds that there would be anyone that knew him there were infinitesimally small, and even if someone did recognize him, he could just pass it off as hanging out with Tyler. He made up his mind. He would go.

  
Tyler helped him pick out what he would wear. Connor was just going to wear the t shirt and jeans he wore all day, but Tyler was having none of that. He picked out some floral tank top monstrosity that Connor wrinkled his nose at. Why did he even own that?

  
“Ugh, should I also carry a purse?” He scowled. Tyler stuck out his tongue and put it back in the closet. He pulled out another tank top, but this one was navy blue. Connor could deal with that, and Tyler was okay with the compromise because Connor agreed to wear the tightest pair of jeans he owned.

  
The club was pretty crowded when they got there. A lot of people were shirtless, and white clothing glowed under the blacklight. The bass was loud, and Tyler and Korey were clearly into it. Connor didn’t mind it, but he didn’t really listen to music like that.

  
“Hey, I’m gonna go get a drink!” He shouted over the din. He ended up drinking something with a lot of jack daniels in it, just sort of hanging by the bar and watching the people. He could feel his inhibitions loosening, and by his third drink he was starting to move to the beat.

  
“Hey cutie, you all alone?” A tall man with a beard sidled up next to him. Normally, he would retreat, get nervous, and find Tyler, but alcohol dulls the mind.

  
“Yeah!” He shouted, bumping along to the song.

  
“Wanna dance?” The man asked him. Connor let himself be led to the dancefloor. They danced to bunch of remixes, and Connor didn’t know what he was doing anymore, but he liked it.

  
-x-

  
The next morning, Connor, thankfully, woke up in Tyler’s apartment with a searing headache.

  
“Oh my god,” he groaned, shielding his eyes from the sun. He checked his watch, it was already 2:30 in the afternoon.

  
“Hey sleepy!” Tyler greeted cheerily. Connor just groaned more “So, who was that guy you were dancing with last night?” He asked, sipping from a cup of coffee. Connor racked his brain. The night before was a complete blur, a haze of flashing lights and sweat.

  
“I honestly have no idea. What even happened last night?” He asked.

  
“Well, you went to get a drink, and then a couple hours later I saw you and some tall guy

  
with a beard grinding on each other,” he giggled. Connor rubbed his temples and tried to keep from throwing up.

  
“God, I don’t remember it much,”

  
“You definitely enjoyed yourself considering y’all were shoving your tongues down each others throats half the time...and judging by the fact that you have his number written on the back of your hand,” he said, pointing at Connor’s hand.Connor lifted it to his eyes, focusing on the number scrawled on his skin. Did he really get so drunk that he made out with some dude for hours and didn’t even get his name? He fell back against the couch, he had such bad judgement when he was drunk.

“Also, Korey definitely knows you’re gay now,” he said casually.

  
“What?”

  
“Well, what you didn’t exactly seem straight when you were grinding your d-,”

  
“That’s enough Tyler!” He cut his friend off. That was so unlike him. He thought over his actions while Tyler drove him home. It was sunny out again. Connor frowned, he liked the grey days. That reminded him that he needed to post his video tomorrow, the artsy one he’d been working on for a week. Once the car pulled up to his apartment, he hurried inside and sat down with his laptop to put the finishing touches on the video. He pulled up Spotify while he worked, noticing that Troye, who he followed, had updated a playlist. He clicked the new song and relished in the chill spacey beats that filled his ears. He and Troye had a very similar taste in music, so usually Connor ended up adding the songs Troye added to his own playlists. Just as he was looking through his friend’s playlists, his phone buzzed, indicating that Troye wanted to facetime.

  
“Hey Tro! That’s so weird, I was just looking through your spotify playlists!” He smiled. Troye had the phone at a weird angle, so you could see the top of his head but not his mouth. He didn’t really say much, and Connor got the impression that something was not right. “Is something wrong Troye?” He asked. The younger boy inhaled sharply, running his hand through his hair.

  
“No, I’m just feeling down y’know. It’s just one of those days,” he sighed. Connor frowned. He hated seeing Troye like this, but at the same time, he was happy Troye turned to him when he was having a bad day. After all, Connor had called up Troye many a time late at night when he was feeling way worse.

  
“Anyway I can help?” He asked.

  
“Nah, just talk, tell me what you’re up to,” Troye gestured, moving the phone down to rest on his lap.

  
“Okay, well right now I’m finishing the last bits of my video that’s going up tomorrow. I’m really nervous people won’t like it. It’s not what I normally do, but I’m really proud of it,” he smiled anxiously.

  
“People will love it Con, I promise,” he reassured him.

  
“And uh, oh last night I went out to a club with Tyler and Korey, and I actually ended up getting really drunk and making out with a stranger,”

  
“Oh my god that doesn’t sound like you at all!” Troye laughed. Connor clapped his hand over his mouth.

  
“I know! It’s awful...I don’t even remember their name. I feel kind of bad about it, maybe I’ll write some poetry,” he mused. Troye chuckled.

  
“Oh Con da bon, sometimes you’re so tumblr it hurts,” he teased. The duo talked for a few hours. Connor often found himself not paying attention to the actual words Troye was saying, just getting lost in the other boy’s expressions and the way he moved his lips. They eventually hung up, and Connor was satisfied with his video. About an hour after the call ended, Connor started to make dinner. He put Troye’s spotify playlist on shuffle, enjoying the background noise while he cooked. He was in the middle of pouring water into a pot when he heard an unfamiliar song. When he went to check, it showed that Troye had just added it. It was a sweet, simple song, unlike what he usually listened to. Connor listened to the lyrics.

  
“Strange, how a phone call can change your day

Take you away, away

From the feeling of being alone

Bless the telephone,”

  
Con smiled, he could just be imagining the correlation, but it was a nice coincidence to think about. It was the next verse that made his heart beat a little bit faster.

  
“It's nice, the way you say my name

Not very fast or slow, just soft and low

The same as when you tell me how you feel

I feel the same way too

I'm very much in love with you,”

Connor fell asleep that night thinking about blue eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry this chapter took so long! I worked hard on it. Just a disclaimer, the timeline doesn't match up because this isn't supposed to be based in reality, it's more like a realistic au. Hope you enjoy!

            The memory of coffee brewing in the kitchen and phantom noises of his siblings roused Connor on Monday.  Once in a while, whether because of a dream or because of a trick of the subconscious, Connor woke up feeling like he was back in his childhood home in Minnesota. Rising to a cold still house was jarring, and cast a melancholy shadow on the rest of Connor’s day. On mornings like this, Connor called his mom.

            Wrapped in a blanket on the couch, Connor talked to his mom about everything, all the little mundane things he was no longer privy to. He learned how much snow the area was getting, how the little neighbor boy had graduated middle school, how the prices at the grocery store had risen since he last visited, and how everyone missed him. His mom explained that the neighbors got a new dog, a yappy little thing with a superiority complex, and Connor remembered the old Labrador the Fords used to have. Whenever the family went on vacation, Connor and his siblings would take care of it  and play in the snow with energetic canine. He smiled thinking about the memory. Eventually, the conversation turned to the video he was posting that day.

            “I think you’ll like it mom,” Connor said, absentmindedly swirling a spoon in his coffee. “It’s different than what I normally do, but I worked really hard on it, and it’s really creative and meaningful,”

            “It sounds great Con. I can’t wait to watch it with your father,” she reassured him. Connor could always count on his parents to support him, even though their lives were worlds away from his.

            “Anything else going on in your life right now?” She asked. Connor thought for a moment,

            “No, not really,”

            “No special someone?” She asked. Connor felt himself blushing.

            “Nope,”

            “That Bethany girl is very pretty,” she teased.

            “Mom, we’re just friends!” Connor groaned.

            “Okay, whatever you say!” He could almost hear her winking through the phone. If she only knew how wrong she was. He talked to his mom for another half hour, finally ending the call so he could upload his video at the right time.

            His stomach bubbled with nervous energy as the video uploaded. When it finished, he shot out a quick tweet and posted it on his tumblr. Now came the hard part, waiting. The fifteen or so minutes it took to get feedback from a video were always nerve racking, but because this was a different kind of video, it was especially so. Connor drummed his fingers anxiously on the desk, wondering who would be the first to call him.

            Sure enough, his phone buzzed in ten minutes, lighting up with a message from Troye.

            Troye: Amazing video Con!

            Troye: So inspiring and beautiful. I’m so glad you used your poetry in it!

            Troye: Art is risk!

Connor smiled, he could always count on Troye to support him in his artistic endeavors.

            Connor: Thanks so much Troye!

            Connor: Skype later?

            Troye: Sure thing

At that moment, his phone flooded with texts from his family and friends. He checked Twitter and the YouTube comments; his video was a hit. Warmth radiated from his fingers to his toes, and a smile spread across his face.

-x-

            It wasn’t often that Connor hung out with just JC and Kian, but it felt nice, standing in the kitchen of the O2L house with the pair and making crappy homemade pizza. Connor had planned to put pineapple on his creation, but Kian emptied the can all over JC’s pizza while he wasn’t looking, creating a slimy mess. JC retaliated by  dumping red sauce down KIan’s shirt. Somehow, Connor remained unscathed throughout the ordeal. He sat perched on a barstool, trying to hold in his laughter, but he was too loud. The pair turned on him, JC grabbing a handful of cheese, and Kian wielding  a jar of olives. Connor tried to cover his face with his hands, but he could not avoid the onslaught of pizza toppings. Kian and JC were so destructive, but that was part of their charm.

            Just as Connor was considering eating the pizza components off himself instead of baking his sad excuse of a pie, a familiar cackle sounded through the house. Connor turned to see his short cotton candy haired friend practically skipping into the kitchen, followed by a smiling Ricky.

            “I thought you guys were making pizza?” Ricky asked, staring confusedly at the mess they had made.

            “Looks like you are the pizza!” Tyler laughed to himself. JC and Kian feigned innocence.

            “Hey, how’d your collabs go?” JC asked, smoothly sweeping broken glass into a trash can.

            “Let me just say I have never had so many phallic objects in my mouth,” Ricky spat. Tyler rolled his eyes.

            “Please girl for me that is a typical Tuesday,”

     Ultimately, with the addition of Tyler, the group decided to order pizza delivery from a professional restaurant. They all sat and relaxed around the television while they waited for the food to arrive. Kian sat on one end of the couch, and JC sat on the floor in front of him, optimal positions to bug each other.  Connor and Ricky huddled up on the other end, speaking in low voices while Tyler lounged in a chair, seemingly captivated by the show. Connor glanced up quickly, seeing that _Catfish_ was playing. He had seen a couple episodes of the show, knew the basic premise, but decided on continuing his conversation with Ricky. He hadn’t roomed with Ricky for a while now, but they always clicked. Ricky was funny and easy to talk to, and it sucked that they didn’t  see each other on a daily basis anymore.

            “Yo this dude is so dumb!” Kian  shouted, high fiving JC.

            “I know, he’s like ‘she doesn’t know how to use her webcam’ dude this is 2014!” JC agreed. Connor looked up at the screen. An average looking guy had deluded himself into thinking a French model was talking to him online. The girl wouldn’t even Skype him.

            “How do you even fall in love with someone you’ve never seen or met? I mean, how much meaning can there be in a text message or phone call?” Ricky asked, breaking from their conversation.

            “Hey Con, you call and talk to Troye a lot on Skype right?” Tyler piped up. Connor’s head whipped around to face his friend, his green eyes boring holes in Tyler’s brain. “He says sometimes you guys talk for three hours at a time…,”

            “What are you trying to say?” Connor asked, a hint of hostility entering his voice.

            “Nothing, just that if you and Troye can be such good friends with only Skype calls, then maybe this guy can fall in love through phone calls and text messages,” he shrugged. He couldn’t tell if the other guys picked up on the tension between Tyler and himself, but if they did they didn’t show it. Connor was relieved when the doorbell rang, allowing him to get up and hide his red face. He chatted for a few minutes with the pizza boy before returning to the living room. When he got there, all the boys had left except Tyler.

            “Where did everyone go?” He asked, setting the box down on the coffee table.

            “Something about Wishbone shitting in Ricky’s bed?” Tyler giggled. Connor sighed and sat down to eat the pizza. Wishbone treated the house like his own personal bathroom, but he was so cute, Connor couldn’t get too mad at him. As Connor began to eat, an uneasy silence settled down on him and Tyler. The older boy just sat in his chair, chewing at his nails and staring at Connor. He knew Tyler  was going to ask him something, and the fact that he had to deliberate it  so long in his  head made Connor’s hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Tyler shifted his weight, and Connor knew he was about to drop a bomb.  Tyler inhaled sharply then blurted:

            “Are you in love with Troye?”  Connor choked on his pizza.

            “Are you crazy?” Connor shouted, spilling all the toppings onto his lap.

            “Well you talk all the time, and the way you talk about him...,”

            “He doesn’t even know I’m gay!” He caught himself yelling and clapped his hand over his mouth, hoping the O2L boys didn’t overhear him. “He doesn’t even know I’m gay!” he repeated in an angry whisper.

            “He doesn’t need to know for you to be in love with him,” Tyler reasoned. Connor pouted and leaned back against the couch. His breathing slowed once more, and the waves of anger crashed less frequently.

            “We’re just friends Ty, really good friends,” he shrugged. Tyler gave him a suspicious look but accepted his answer.

            “Whatever, you do you, but I hope you’re a bottom because I hear Troye likes to top,” he said offhandedly. Connor threw a pillow at him.

            The night flew by. Luckily, the other boys had been too preoccupied trying to stuff each other’s faces in Wishbone’s excrement to hear Connor’s accidental confession, and Tyler left him alone about his love life for the rest of the night. Connor felt like he was back in the early days of O2L with the boys, messing around the house. When it got later, Connor began to make his way home.

As soon as he got in the door, he threw his stuff on the ground and walked over to his computer. Troye’s skype call popped up immediately.

“You’re late!” He chastised.

“Sorry I was at the O2L house and traffic was bad, how are you?” He asked, curling his legs beneath him in the chair and resting his chin on his hand. Troye launched into a description of his day, complaining about some store manager and gushing over a guy he thought was cute. As Troye kept going, Connor tuned out his voice and just focused on his face, the way his lips pouted, how his nose crinkled up when expressing displeasure. A smile began to spread across Connor’s face.

“What?” Troye interrupted himself,  wondering about Connor’s grin.

“Nothing keep going!” The older boy encouraged. Troye needed little prompting. These were feelings Connor shouldn’t have about his friend. Friends don’t stare at each other’s lips and wonder how they feel. Friends don’t spend hours talking across the world about meaningless things. Maybe Tyler was right. Maybe Connor wanted to be more than friends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry this took literally forever to write, but I wait for inspiration before i write which is a very inefficient process. Sorry it's shorter. Hope you guys like it!

            A weight seemed to pull on Connor’s stomach, dragging him through the floorboards into a world of hazy anxiety. For the next few days, his mood was at odds with the cheery California weather. The forecast was nothing but blue skies, but Connor felt nothing but the blues. He sat despondently on his couch, morning after morning, letting his coffee become cold and bitter.

            Usually Connor was all about the positivity, but sometimes thoughts worked their way from his brain into the pit of his stomach like worms. They were cutting thoughts, things that hid in the back of his mind that resurfaced without warning. These worms included insecurities he had as a child: doubts about his weight, hatred for the scar on his forehead, and ranged to deep seeded fears he held as an adult. Connor’s sexuality was always the monster under the bed, waiting for his thoughts to drift to the dark pit below to rear its ugly head.

            Although Connor was out to two people, he still felt like he was playing the straight façade. Tyler and Korey were safe. They acted exactly the same, and his relationship with them was not altered by his confession. They didn’t pressure him to think of the implications of the revelation. Liking Troye, however, brought those thoughts to the surface.

            Troye made him feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the popular boy in class. He was utterly unattainable, and Connor felt exceedingly foolish pining over him. Worse, it made being gay real. It gave the word weight and meaning. His entire life, Connor had been fed the idea of the traditional nuclear family (a wife and two kids who have his eyes), and his stupid crush was crushing that idea.

Could he imagine himself with a husband someday? His gut told him no. He could only imagine a woman in an elegant white dress walking towards him at the alter. That was all he’d ever known, but when he thought of Troye, the butterflies in his stomach told him he’d never see that woman in white.

A few days after speaking with Troye on Skype, Connor decided to treat himself to a marathon of _Project Runway_ and wine. Maybe that would lift his spirits. Halfway through the third episode, his phone buzzed with a message from Ricky.

Ricky: Hey con are you dead? Haven’t seen you in days.

Connor: I’m ok. Just a little down.

Connor: Marathoning project runway today tho

Ricky: Haha want me to call Tyler and ask him to join you? ;P

 

Connor froze. Was that a dig at him? Clearly, Ricky meant no harm by the comment, but it sent Connor into a cavalcade of questions and insecurities. Okay, it was definitely a show that effeminate gay men watched, but that didn’t matter right? Connor felt himself panicking. He did like fashion a little too much, and everyone always said he was a little too creative and animated for a boy. The wave of vulnerability crescendoed, and it was all he could do to keep it from crashing.

To try and calm himself, he took to social media. He was always one who wore his heart on his sleeve, so he crafted a vague tweet describing how he was feeling and scoured his dashboard on Tumblr to find emotive posts. He felt a little better after that. It was a small return to normalcy. About ten minutes later, he got an unexpected text from Troye.

Troye: Con are you feeling okay? Do you need to talk? Saw ur tweet

Connor: Yeah feeling better now.

Connor: …hey Troye, do you think I’m too feminine?

His thumb flew across the keyboard. Troye would not sugarcoat his answer, and that made Connor really nervous.

            Troye: Well ur not super masculine.

            Troye: But it doesn’t matter.

            Troye: Fuck gender roles. Do what makes you happy. J

Connor suddenly felt light, like the weight on his stomach had been replaced with a thousand balloons. He imagined himself floating with the balloons up to the clouds, to a land where gender roles didn’t exist. Connor decided to channel his sudden change in mood into something productive and shouldered a jacket to go for a walk around his neighborhood.

            Going for walks was kind of something the elderly cornered the market on, but Connor didn’t care. It cleared his head and didn’t leave him panting at the end like a run did. He liked to wave to his neighbors gardening or sitting out on their porch. He often wondered what they thought of him. Did the bald man with the thick moustache think he was weird? Did the teenage girl in the house on the corner think he was cute? Did they even care about him? Despite his career choice, Connor liked anonymity and apathy of his neighbors.

            He took a detour from the route to pop into the little coffee shop at the end of his street. They were kind of pricey, but they made an amazing cup of joe. He scrolled through his twitter feed on his phone while he waited in line. Normally, he just told the barista ‘I’ll have the regular’ when he got to the front of the line as he visited the shop so often, but it was not the familiar face of Tammy, a middle aged woman with bleached blonde hair that greeted him. Instead, the eager smile of a very cute guy asked for his order. Connor stuttered, momentarily forgetting what he ordered nearly every day.

            “Medium latte macchiato no extra sugar,” he managed to spit out. The tan muscular barista asked for his name for the cup and moved on to the next customer, but Connor couldn’t help staring at him while he waited for his order. A woman elbowed him in the side gently and winked, causing immediate embarrassment and his face to flush. He walked briskly back to his apartment holding his warm drink, realizing he had to take a cold shower.

-x-

            That night, Connor decided to try his hand at a stir fry recipe he found on the internet. Troye insisted on skyping him in the kitchen while he tried to make it in case he caught the apartment on fire. Connor reminded him that it would be difficult to notify proper authorities from across the world, but Troye was stubborn.

            “How was your day Con?” Troye asked from across the kitchen. Connor was absentmindedly cutting scallions and watching his skillet heat up.

            “Alright. I watched _Project Runway_ and went for a walk,” he muttered, fixated on his dish. A squeaking sound emanated from the laptop speakers. Troye must have been spinning in his chair again.

            “Where’d you go?”

            “The little coffee shop at the bottom of the street. You’ve been there,” he said while he dumped the scallions in the skillet and started cutting up a chicken breast.

            “Oh yeah! That barista there knows your order right?” He laughed, thinking Connor’s coffee addiction was hilarious.

            “Yeah, but they had some new guy working today, so I actually had to give my order and he was so cute that I forgot it and looked like an idiot,” he laughed, brushing the chicken into the pan. There was only silence from across the room. Connor turned around to see if something was wrong when he realized what he had said. Suddenly, he froze. Steam started rising from his skillet, signifying that his dinner was burning, but all the boy could do was stand rooted to his spot, looking at the ground.

            “…is there something you want to tell me Con?” Troye asked hesitantly. Connor took a step forward to speak but could only feel tears starting to well up in his eyes. Troye jumped into comfort mode. “No no Con don’t cry! It’s okay!” He reassured trying to stop his friend from feeling badly. “Go take your pan off the burner,” he said. Connor wiped his eyes and listened, removing the slightly burned food. Inhaling deeply, he sat in front of the laptop and prepared to tell Troye his biggest secret.

            “Troye, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a long time, but I’ve been really scared and nervous to. I don’t really know why since you’ve always been there for me. I guess I just didn’t want you to see me differently,” he rambled, avoiding eye contact. He sat quietly for a moment before continuing. “I guess I’ll just say it…I’m gay,” he finished. Suddenly, his throat went dry. The phrase sounded alien, echoing ominously against the tile and metal kitchen fixtures.

            “Oh Connor, I wish I could give you a hug,” Troye smiled, his voice breaking over Skype. “Nothing has changed. You’re still the same Connor. Your sexuality does not define you,” he stated. “I love you,” Connor smiled.

            That night, Connor slept better than ever before, knowing that his best friend accepted him. He felt so light that he could almost float through the ceiling. The only thing that kept him grounded was the idea that he wanted to be more than best friends.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I finally have a new chapter! I couldn't get a lot of info on when flights usually arrive or depart, but I tried to make it ambiguous enough, so I'm sorry if you have to suspend your disbelief a little to read this. Okay that's all I hope you enjoy! I plan on updating sooner next time. :)

“So do you feel like a whole new boy?” Tyler asked Connor as they stood in line at Chipotle. Connor laughed and continued giving his order to the employee behind the glass. After accidentally outing himself to Troye, something he didn’t even know was possible, he slowly began crafting ways to let the rest of the people in his life know.

No matter how many times he had done it, it was always nerve racking. Before telling his mom, his stomach lurched violently, and he worried he’d throw up  as he told her and ruin her new shoes with his vomit. Before telling his friends from his hometown over the phone, he felt the urge to flick his cell out the window or perhaps “accidentally” drop it in the toilet mid confession.

So far, everyone had been more or less accepting depending on their familiarity with the LGBTQ community. Sure, his grandparents were a little uncomfortable and fairly misinformed, but they still sent him cards with money in them, so they couldn’t be too mad at him. No one had outright rejected him, a thought that made his chest tight with happiness.

The man behind the counter asked if Connor wanted cheese in his burrito bowl to which Connor shook his head.

“No cheese?” Tyler gasped dramatically from his side. “You’ve changed,” he joked. Connor rolled his eyes and gently punched his friend’s arm. The pair took a seat by the window in order to watch the passing parade of yoga mom’s, wannabe actors, and wealthy business people. Connor loved living in LA, but sometimes he missed the type of people in Minnesota. He knew that if he was at a Chipotle in his hometown, he’d see some shop owners, farmers, high school students, and he probably would know all of them.

“So…,” Tyler began, sipping his water and eyeing him mischievously. Connor sighed. He knew what that look meant. That was Tyler’s ‘time to gossip about boys’ look. Connor listened politely while Tyler told him about his night at a disco with Korey, but he knew the only reason Ty was bringing this up was to ask Connor about his progress with Troye. Sure enough, as soon as the story ended, Tyler gestured to him as if to say ‘and you’?

“We’re the same. We skype a lot, but we’ve always done that. He’s not interested in me. I’m not his type,” Connor said taking a bite out of his burrito.

“Well what is his type?”

“I don’t know. Someone brooding and handsome and talented,” he mused. Tyler tried to stifle his laughter but ultimately failed, allowing his witchlike cackle to echo against the walls of the restaurant.

“Melodramatic much? Are you sure you’re not describing your type? Because that sounds like Troye,” Tyler finished. Connor wanted to argue, but his mind was coming up blank. He really had described Troye. Connor was telling the truth though. Troye didn’t treat him any differently once he knew. Secretly, Connor hoped it would change things. Maybe Troye would see him in a different light. Maybe Troye would do or say something that revealed the feelings underneath his shimmering exterior. Maybe Troye would crack.

“Hello? Earth to Connor,” Tyler snapped his fingers, trying to get the attention of his friend who seemed to have slipped into a trance. Connor broke his gaze and directed his attention to Tyler.  “As I was saying, Troye is coming tomorrow, what are you gonna do about it?” He asked. Connor shook his head absentmindedly, thinking about the way a sunset looks from the window of a plane.

-x-

            _‘Only a few more hours until Troye arrives in LA’_ Connor found himself thinking as he dressed the next morning. He realized that could sound a bit obsessive to an outsider, but that’s just the way his mind worked. He craved organization and structure, a quality that the rest of O2L loved. He had a lot of errands he needed to run that day, and reminding himself that one of his best friends would be there in a short amount of time pushed him through the drudgery.

            His head bobbed along gently to chill spacey beat of EZA’s “High & Low” while he drove around the city. His body was on automatic, mindlessly shifting gear, stopping at lights, and breaking for pedestrians. His mind ran at high speed, running over lists of groceries and bills and important phone calls. He liked to think his brain emitted a low hum, audible at a frequency not privilege to humans.

            A stranger approached him while he waited in line at the post office to retrieve a package. The boy invaded his spacey linear headspace with an apologetic smile and a request for a picture. Connor gladly flashed a quick smile and thanked the kid for watching his videos. The majority of his subscribers were girls, so it was nice seeing a guy every now and then. He wondered how his demographic would change once he became a completely unattainable possibly unrelatable to his straight female viewers. Would they stick around?

            Connor shook off the morose thought and headed to Target to buy food and an extra pillow for Troye who would be staying in his spare room for a night. Connor offered Troye the blowup mattress in his office out of courtesy, but his friend understandably chose the comfort and privacy of an airbnb for his stay in LA. He supposed it made sense for an up and coming singer to stay by himself instead of on the floor of a friend’s house, but Connor was glad to give Troye a place to stay until his airbnb was ready.

            Like usual, it was Connor’s job to meet Troye at the airport and drive him back to his apartment. Even when Troye didn’t stay at his place, Connor always picked him up. It was kind of unnecessary. Troye was an adult, a very experienced flyer, and he could have called himself an Uber or bothered one of his other friends, but Connor always ended up doing it. Connor used to moan and groan for show when Troye asked him, but a few trips ago, without either of them noticing, it had become an unspoken part of their routine.

            Connor liked it anyway. He lived in airports almost as much as Troye, and the grey speckled walls had become a familiar source of comfort. Airports meant something new, something exciting was about to happen. Once he stepped inside an airport, he entered into a transient space. In airports, people are always coming or going. They’re pit stops in people’s lives. They signify change.

            However, today, Connor was just in the parking lot of the building. He sat quietly, sipping his coffee. His mind had slowed to a crawl. The same words rolled around in his brain over and over, words like relationship and friend. The heavy words thudded solidly as they undulated.

After a few minutes, the silhouette of a lanky boy appeared in the glow of a doorway. The small frame shuffled awkwardly up to the car, encumbered by a huge duffle bag swinging at its legs. As Troye approached, Connor could make out the tiredness on his face, but once Troye caught sight of him, his eyes lit up.

“Connie Frannie!” He cheered. Connor stepped out and helped him muscle the monstrous bag into the trunk. Troye climbed in the passenger seat and immediately plugged his phone into the aux cord.  Connor rolled his eyes, so typical. Troye shuffled his Hangover playlist on Spotify and bopped his head along with a song, exaggerating his movements and invading Connor’s personal space to elicit a chuckle. Connor laughed and pushed Troye away from him, protesting that he needed to focus on the road.

As the car turned onto main roads, the pair calmed down. Troye absentmindedly scrolled through emails, neglecting to answer them but reading them nonetheless. His eyelids grew heavy, however, and he was soon snoring curled up against the window. Connor stole a few glances at his companion at first but ultimately became immersed in his own thoughts as he drove. He had been driving for about thirty minutes before pressure on his shoulder snapped his attention back to the present. In his sleep, Troye had moved to rest his head on Connor’s shoulder. Connor grinned,  pulling the car into his parking space.

“Hey Troye”, he said quietly, nudging the sleeping boy. Troye stirred, opening his eyes slightly and sitting up once he realized his surroundings.

“Thanks Con,” he smiled sleepily.

The pair retired to the kitchen where Troye scrolled through his timeline on twitter, and Connor heated the stovetop to make food. Cool pale sunlight filtered into the room, bouncing off the chandelier and cascading polka dots of light across the table.

“Smashed avo and eggs on toast?” Troye asked, surprised that Connor remembered he loved that dish and that Connor had the skills to make it.

            “Of course! Your first meal in LA has to be a good one,” he sang. Troye rolled his eyes.

            “You’re such a cheeseball,” he laughed, taking a bite of egg.

            “Gouda one Troye, feta keep those insults coming,” Connor waggled his eyebrows. Troye glared at him.

            “Fuck off,” Troye huffed, smiling with a mouth full of avocado.

            The rest of their day was fairly low-key.  Connor showed Troye the video he was working on while teasing Troye about his own unpredictable upload schedule. Troye shared the lyrical fragments he had written in a notebook. They didn’t have a melody or anything to them yet, but he knew Connor liked seeing his creative process. Foregoing any socialization, they ended up watching reality tv and documentaries on Connor’s couch before beginning a marathon of business meetings early the next day.

-x-

            Connor’s alarm failed to go off the next morning, starting his day off in a frenzy of phone calls and profanity. Since Connor was essentially Troye’s alarm, he too awoke a whole thirty minutes later than planned. Somehow the pair made it into the car only seven minutes later, but neither of them were happy about it. Troye had to meet with a marketing company with stale breath in a wrinkled jacket, causing him to lash out at any little inconvenience. The usually impeccably dressed Connor looked relatively disheveled. His hair flopped down on his forehead, reminiscent of his early youtube videos, and his outfit was barely a step above lounge clothes.

            By six pm they had gone to a combined seven meetings and were merely shells of their former exuberant selves. Connor sucked on his third ice coffee in two hours as he drove Troye to a dinner he had to attend in an hour and a half. Once they broke through the heavy LA traffic, they found themselves driving along open fields and pastures. Troye rolled down the window to breath in air slightly less imbibed with smog. Suddenly, he spoke up over the roar of the wind.

            “Con!”

            “Yeah?”

            “Pull over!”

            “What? Why?”

            “Just do it!” Connor shrugged, pulling the vehicle over to the side of the road. Troye glanced out the window and back at him, his hair wild from the drive and a spark of mischief in his eyes.

            “What are you thinking?” Connor asked hesitantly.

            “We have about an hour and a half before dinner right?” He asked. Connor nodded slowly. “Then let’s have an adventure!” He cheered, whipping open the passenger side door and jumping out into one of the many fields.

            “Where are we going?” Connor asked, locking the car and running after Troye who was making his way to a dense area of green in the near distance.

            “Right here,” Troye answered, breathing heavily. He had led them to a field of wild sunflowers.

            “I love sunflowers,” Connor said dreamily. Troye followed him, walking amongst the tallest ones and picking the ones he liked the best. Troye plopped down in a small clearing to look up at the clouds changing color in the deepening sunset. “You’re going to have grass stains on your jeans at dinner,” Connor noted, taking a seat right next to his friend and leaning back on his hands.

            “Lay your head here so you can watch the clouds with me,” Troye instructed, patting his chest. Connor accepted the offer and tentatively placed his head on his friend. At first he felt tense, his body rigid, but once Troye reached out to play with his hair he relaxed.

            “That one looks like a fish,” Connor said, pointing to a strangely shaped cloud above him.

            “Look at that one over there,” Troye pointed to the left. “It looks like a butt,” they laughed. Connor’s anxieties about the day and his feelings for Troye melted away.  He knew they were just beneath the surface, but he contented himself in the happy, carefree moment. This friendship felt so good, but Connor wished he could tip the scale slightly to something more.

            “Hey Tro?”

            “Yeah Con?” Connor paused for a moment, thinking about what he was going to say.

            “Thanks for being a really great friend,” he decided. Troye rolled his eyes once again at his sappy friend.

            “You’re not bad either.”


End file.
